


The Malfoys

by LadyKenz347



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Multi - Freeform, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Smut, as close to fluff as I can do really, explicit - Freeform, marriage law
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:40:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23536195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKenz347/pseuds/LadyKenz347
Summary: Hermione finds herself with not one Malfoy husband--but two.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy
Comments: 77
Kudos: 459
Collections: Good Girl Hermione





	1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello friends!! Idk how this little story happened but alas here it is. This won’t be like my normal WIP’s; I’ll just be writing short little chapters as the muse strikes but I hope they’ll be fun and smutastic and without any angst to keep you guessing.**

**Content Warnings: Multi-relationship, NO INCEST, Some D/S, praise kink, rough sex, dirty talk, A LOT OF OF SMUT very minimal plot.**

**This is the filthiest thing I've ever written so you've been warned it's a kink heavy!**

xXx

Hermione sat on the edge of the massive bed with her hands tucked underneath her legs. Silk had never felt so uncomfortable in all her life. The innocuous gift box had arrived in her chambers earlier that morning—when she was still Hermione Granger—and her lip had curled for no reason at all. A beautiful ivory silk negligee that went down to her ankles and a matching robe. 

She wasn’t ready. Of all the ways she imagined her wedding night, it wasn’t like  _ this _ . Two husbands. One surname. One house. 

From beyond her chamber doors, she heard feet padding down on hall. A shiver skittered across her skin. It’d been decided it wouldn’t be Draco on the wedding night—Lucius had insisted during negotiations that he have her first. Maybe it was better this way. There was such a sordid history with Draco, it was complex and tangled and now against all odds—he was her husband. One of them. 

_ Because she had two.  _

The door handle turned and she sucked in a quick breath, rushing to her feet and smoothing her palms down the fabric on her thighs. 

In an aristocratic sweep, Lucius entered, ignoring her presence as he made his way to the drink cart and set down his cane. He was barefoot, she noticed. “Would you like a drink—“ he paused then, turning over his shoulder with an arched brow.  _ “Darling?” _

She ought not to, but at this point, she’d do anything to calm the thrashing of her heart. “Yes, please—but I can do without the endearments.” 

“What shall I call you then?” he asked, returning his attention to the drink cart. Even with his face downturned, she could see the way his cheek lifted into a smirk.  _ “Wife?” _

As he poured amber liquid into crystal tumblers, she took a moment to study her new husband. He was broader than Draco, his shoulders wide and strong, yet still tapering into a trim waist. The shirt must have been his undershirt because it was thin linen; she could make out the lines in his back. 

“I have to say,” he continued while turning and offering her a glass, “I am as surprised by this as anyone. Though I don’t think I’m quite as unhappy as you are.” 

The firewhisky burned down her throat as she swallowed a large drink. “What makes you think I’m unhappy?”

His eyes tightened on her as he drained his drink and set it aside. With a slow, predatory step, he crossed the space between them, looming over her. If he noticed the way her hands trembled, he didn’t mention it. When her drink was gone, he took it and vanished it with a wave of his hand. 

Lucius’ silver stare dragged over her features and down the column of her neck. As he stood transfixed on her chest, she felt a hot blush bloom and crawl over her skin. Merlin, she couldn’t bloody breathe. 

This was her life—he was her husband. She’d had other options when the law made its way through the Wizengamot, but the Malfoy’s offered her something no one else could. 

Money. 

If someone had told her five years ago she’d marry for money, she’d had never believed them. 

But in the years following the war her parents had unforeseen issues with the Obliviation. They lost more and more of their memories. Soon, they’d lost the ability to practice Dentistry. 

Her Gringott’s account dwindled and dwindled as she paid for healers and curse breakers and international portkey’s to Australia for the lot. Her measly Ministry salary barely covered enough for her to survive, nevermind the medical bills kept coming in. 

So, she’d turned down Ron’s proposal. And Harry’s. And Neville’s. She’d considered Cormac—he boasted a brilliant Quidditch career, after all—but it  _ still _ wouldn’t be enough to take care of her parents. 

And she’d accepted a rather odd proposal from the Malfoy’s. Plural. Narcissa had passed from a neglected illness shortly after the war and they found themselves without a Lady of the Manor. Now they had one. 

Hermione forced her gaze on his face, she wasn’t a victim; she’d chosen this and knew that consummation and pregnancy were requirements of her. Sex didn’t  _ have _ to be emotional. It’d been transactional for centuries and could be here as well. Tilting her chin higher, she steeled her resolve. 

His fingers pulled the tie of her robe free and the silk fell apart, revealing the negligee beneath. Her nipples pebbled under the cool fabric and Lucius’ eyes narrowed as he stared down at her. 

There was certainly no tremble to  _ his _ hands as he pushed robe from her shoulders, letting it pool at their feet. Lifting a finger, he settled it on the hollow of her throat. So slowly she thought she might combust, he dragged said finger down her sternum stopping only as it fell to the valley between her breasts. 

“You’re beautiful.” The praise whispered over her skin, leaving a trail of gooseflesh. With a smirk, he moved, stepping around her in a tight circle. It’d be nice if he’d bloody get on with it but she suspected this was part of the thrill for him. He’d paid for his bride; he wanted to enjoy her. 

From behind her, she could feel the rise and fall of his chest and one arm curled around her ribs. He palmed her breast and her breath hitched, a familiar tingle between her thighs. His free hand curled around her hip, tugging her flush against him and she could feel the hard ridge of his erection against her bum. 

Sweeping the curls from her shoulders, he planted a kiss to her shoulder, and then to the nape of her neck. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you accepted, pet. I’ve wanted to make you mine for some time and now—” The hand on her hip fell away. “You are. Turn around.” 

Hermione obliged, eyes rounding. 

“Undress me.” His voice was low and husky and it did something sinful at the apex of her thighs. 

Swallowing around the knot in her throat, she tugged his shirt from his trousers and then off his body. His chest was thick and covered with a smattering of silver hair. And her gaze caught on the inky Dark Mark on his arm. Peeking up at him, she found him smirking, a single brow arched high. 

“Does it scare you?”

With a snort, she gently rolled her eyes. “Not even a little bit.”

His hands found her hips as she slipped the button of his trousers free. There was no other fabric between them, he’d foregone pants, and his erection sprang free. 

As she pushed them from his hips, his hands slid to her bum, digging his fingertips into her arse. Stepping from his trousers, he reached down and lifted her gingerly in his arms and walked to the mattress. Laying her down with a strange reverence. 

He took the base of his cock in his hand and pumped himself slowly as he stared down at her. There was no longer a trace of silver in his gaze; his eyes were the shade of midnight. 

A grin spread over his features and the hand on his cock fell away and grabbed the hem of her nightie. He  _ slowly  _ peeled it up, fingertips grazing along her skin and thigh until her knickers were revealed. 

“Pretty,” he said as he curled his hand around her mound, fingers pressing against her entrance. 

A small noise slipped past her lips and she squirmed. “I want you as my wife, Hermione. If I’d wanted a whore, I’d have bought one—could have bought you. But I didn’t—do you know why?” His hand moved, sliding down her knickers and toying with her hard clit. 

She was embarrassed to be so turned on by him but her body was responding to him more than she’d ever expected. A whimper worked its way from her chest and she fisted the duvet to keep from moving. “No.” 

“Because I want  _ you _ .” He pressed a finger inside her and she moaned. “As does my son. Love is irrelevant but I expect you to behave as a loving wife. Do you understand?” Another finger pressed inside her and she gasped as he dragged them in and out of her in long lazy strokes. 

“Yes,” she choked out, back arching off the mattress. 

“You’re ours.” His two fingers withdrew, rubbing her slick across her folds and if she were of sound mind she’d be mortified but she only wanted more. 

“Yours.” 

“Touch me.” He thrust his fingers back inside of her, this time with a rhythm that edged her higher. Releasing the duvet, she shot her hand out to wrap around the thick of him in time with his ministrations between her legs. “Kiss me.” 

Her heart fluttered wildly and in her lust-driven haze she propped up one elbow and kissed his erection. 

“More,” he commanded, threading his hands in her curls with one hand and slapping her cunt with the other before pressing back inside her. She cried out, unexpected pleasure rippling from her sex. 

She took him in her mouth, wetting him with her tongue as he pressed deeper between her lips. “You’re so perfect like this.” His hand twisted in her hair and he pulled her off him. “I will fuck this smart mouth properly as soon as I’m able.”

He didn’t relent between her thighs and she felt the familiar coil of her orgasm wind deep in her belly. Rocking his palm against her, he growled as she clenched down on him, pure pleasure coursing through her limbs. 

“Good girl.” His praise washed over her and she fell back against the mattress heaving hard breaths. Absently she was aware of the dip of the mattress and him settling between her now parted thighs. His cock nudged her entrance and her eyes shot open. “I am going to fuck you in every way, in every room, at every given opportunity.” Snapping his hips forward, he filled her with a single thrust and she cried out, throwing her arm over her face. 

A hollow laugh mixed with a moan rumbled from above her and he began driving into her with abandon. She couldn’t make sense of the sensation of him inside her; it was overwhelmingly too much and simultaneously nowhere near enough. 

He sat tall, resting on his haunches as he continued thrusting in and out of her. He gripped the silk at her collar and tore it away, exposing her breasts to his black stare. 

One hand assaulted her nipple, twisting and tugging , the other slid between them and rubbed mercilessly on her sensitive clit in a delicious combination that again pushed her towards another orgasm. 

“That’s it, pet. Come for me.” He slapped her clit again and she obeyed, mouth falling open in a silent cry. With a feral growl, he quickened his pace, hands digging into her hips to keep her still. Wisps of platinum hair worked free of the tie that held it in place, fanning around his face as his features steeled. When he came, his head fell back, exposing the long, elegant column of his throat and a faded tattoo made up of magical symbols and numbers. Branded in Azkaban. Hermione found herself desperate to kiss just there. 

Lucius withdrew from her and crawled to the center of the bed, ticking his chin for her to join. Hermione Granger— _ Malfoy _ — was anything but a submissive witch but there was a timber of Lucius’ voice mixed with this sinful desire for her one-time enemy that made her obey. 

Strangely enough, he tucked her into his side and caught his breath. “I’ll have you again tonight so I’ll stay here, but you can expect to come to my chambers on my nights with you.” 

“Okay,” she said lamely, unsure what to say to this new husband of hers. 

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

What kind of person was she if she said she enjoyed herself while under contractual obligation to consummate with a man twenty years her senior. She remained firm in her earlier reasonings: sex didn’t have to be emotional; it could be transactional. But she allowed herself a small amendment—it could also be pleasurable. 

This was her life. This was her husband. She’d be sleeping with him for the foreseeable future and she was allowed to enjoy that.  _ She was allowed to like it.  _

Propping up on her elbow, she stared at him curiously.  _ Husband. _ Simply because she wanted to, she leaned forward and kissed him for the first time. He stilled at the contact as though he hadn’t just been inside her. She didn’t relent though, instead kissing him more firmly until his lips moved under hers. His hand moved to cradle the base of her skull and her tongue darted out to taste the curve of his bottom lip. 

When she pulled back, she let out a long sigh and laid her head on her chest. If Lucius Malfoy wanted a wife in exchange for providing for her and her family, then a wife he would get. 

Her thoughts ran errant to the other Malfoy in the Manor and what kind of wife he’d be expecting. 

**xXx**

**A/N: This will be short snippets of mostly smut with some romance and plot! I’ll update as the muse strikes and I need some smut breaks haha**

**Again this is unbeta’d so please forgive any errors. Thank you for reading!**

**LK**


	2. Chapter 2

**Kink Warnings: consensual name calling and slight humiliation, spanking, outdoor sex, throat kink,**

**Unbeta’d. Please forgive my god-awful grammar.**

Her wardrobe had been fully— _ opulently _ —stocked. Merlin, did they honestly expect her to wear ball gowns every night? She wore trainers and jeans most everyday and now fine silks and flowing chiffons tumbled from her closet. 

But she was Mrs. Malfoy now; that meant something. She’d known what she was getting into and having this stature allowed her luxuries she hadn’t considered before. Sure there were the family jewels and the lavish country homes, but it also afforded her time—time  _ and _ money. With those two things she could make change in the wizarding world for real, no longer gathering dust in the bowels of the Ministry. 

But all that change would have to wait because her husband had sent word that he’d like her company for a private dinner. He’d also passive aggresively requested that she dress appropriately, which had led her to her ridiculous wardrobe. What in the hell was she was supposed to wear to dinner at Malfoy Manor? 

She’d left her hair down, wild curls spilling over her shoulders and put on a little bit of makeup she’d found left in her vanity. In set of black knickers and a matching bra, she stood barefoot in her closest. Staring. 

With a begrudging sigh she yanked a simple black dress from it’s hanger. It had a tie around the waist and kissed the middle of her thighs, the neckline was somewhere between modest and sexy and she rather liked the way it fluttered around her when she walked. She slipped into a pair of black pumps and made to make her way to the dining room, pausing only when the broad shoulders of her  _ other _ husband came into view. 

Clearing her throat, she smoothed her palms down the fabric of her dress. Lucius turned, his passive expression turning cheshire as he stared at her. “Well, don’t you look pretty, my pet.” 

A warm blush bloomed on her chest, crawling up her neck to stain her cheeks. “Thank you.” 

“I’ve come to escort you to dinner.” He held his arm out and she twined hers through the opening it made, following him as they made their way down the hall. The lights of the candelabras flickered, casting haunting shadows on the portraits who were all staring down their noses at her. “Draco and I were talking earlier and we’ve come to the conclusion that we could all three use a bit of time away following the bonding ceremony. We were discussing perhaps Greece, maybe Italy. Do you have a preference?”

Hermione blinked several times into the dark hall ahead of them before turning to him with a furrowed brow. “You—you want to take me on a honeymoon?”

The corner of his lip twitched. “If that’s what the Muggles say, then yes. If you prefer the mountains we could always do the Alps or the chateau in Southern France.” 

“That’s —” Pausing, Hermione’s fingers curled around his elbow and she brought him to a halt as well. “That’s really quite thoughtful. I suppose it’d be nice to get to know you both a little better, since this was all rather rushed and it’s for eternity.” 

His silver eyes flashed at the last word and she gasped as he pressed his walking stick to the soft hollow under her chin, tilting her head up to an exaggerated angle. The action shouldn’t turn her on but she felt her sex dampen and she pressed her thighs together as his eyes roved over her face and neck. 

“Give me your knickers,” he commanded, pressing his cane more firmly against her jaw. 

“The ones I’m wearing?” 

_ “Obviously _ .” 

Pulling a face, she fisted the fabric of her skirt and hitched it higher, sliding her thumbs into the waistband and pushing them down. They pooled at her ankles and just as she was about to awkwardly step from them with her face still pointing towards the ceiling, Lucius fell to his knee. 

She gasped as she felt his feather light touch at her ankle, and her hands darted out to rest on his shoulders as he helped free her of them. Once in his palm, she expected him to rise, but he remained there a moment, fingers circling the inside of her calf, then brushing the back of her knee and up her thigh. Curling her fingers into his robes, she cried out as he swiped at her silken folds, her jaw falling open. 

Never in her life had she felt so wanton, so desperately needy for physical touch and reprieve. 

“Cheeky witch,” he murmured, staring at up her through pale lashes as he pushed his thumb inside her. Her knees buckled and she remained upright only because she was digging her fingers into his shoulders. “Going to dinner with my son whilst still dripping for me? I should spank you for audacity. Would you like that?”

He twisted his digit inside her and she  _ keened _ . “Y-yes.” 

Far too swiftly, he pulled away, leaving her aching and empty as he rose to his feet. He loomed over her, fisting the black silk of her knickers and bringing them up to his nose, inhaling deeply. “Perhaps later, darling. You’re late already.” 

Shoving her knickers in his pocket, he resumed the earlier position, leading her down the hall and stairwell until they were outside the dining room doors. She thought he would leave her there but instead he pushed the door open and escorted her in. 

Draco stood near the head of the table, tall and lean and immaculately dressed. As the pair approached him, she wondered if maybe she’d misunderstood, if maybe dinner was for all three of them. Panic blanketed over her, tangling her insides because she barely knew either of her husbands and the idea of them both at the same time—in any capacity—was beyond daunting. 

“Fear not, pet,” Lucius said, as though he could hear the way her mind screamed for answers. “I’m only handing you off safely and then will be on my way. I’ve dinner with a colleague tonight.” 

As they approached Draco, she found his expression unreadable, brows low and pinched, jaw set. 

“Father,” he said in way of greeting. “Hermione.” There was something about the gentle way his lips wrapped around her given name that set loose a shiver across her skin. 

“Draco.” Her nose wrinkled a bit; except for the bonding ceremony she wasn’t sure when she’d callen him anything except Malfoy—and usually with a disdainful sneer in addition. When she was close enough, her arm fell away from Lucius and she twined her own fingers together in front of her awkwardly. 

“Enjoy your evening,” Lucius said with a dip of his chin. “If you decide on somewhere you’d enjoy travelling, I’ll make arrangements. Goodnight.” She turned to bid him goodnight but his arm banded around her waist and he pulled her in for a deep kiss; his lips tasted like firewhisky and sin as they danced over hers. 

It lasted only a moment, but it was enough to leave her breathless as he bid his son goodnight with a handshake and promptly left. Blushing fervidly, she took the seat that Draco offered her to his right and sat primly on the edge. It was all of a sudden too clear that she was without her undergarments and she squirmed in discomfort. 

“How was your day?” Draco asked politely, freeing his napkin and letting it float to his lap. 

Scrunching her face to one side, she thought back on how she’d spent it. She’d woken up with Lucius’ face between her thighs and he’d later sent come shooting across her belly as she sucked on his fingers. The rest of the day had been spent catching up on sleep and exploring her new room. “Um, fine.” 

The first course arrived and they ate in near silence after that, the quiet punctuated only by a few perfunctory questions and she couldn’t help but grow uncomfortable at the extreme differences between her two husbands. 

Dinner ended and he rose, offering his hand to her and she stared at it a long moment before laying her fingers in his palm and joining him. The touch sent a fissure of want through her and given the near glacial interactions of the evening, she couldn’t figure out why. “I thought we might have a drink outside and talk awhile.” 

Hermione grimaced slightly; talking hadn’t gone so well over dinner. “Alright.” 

They made their way to the terrace overlooking the gardens, an inky black sky pressing all around them, glittering with silver stars. Hermione felt breathless as she took in the scene, stepping away from him as she approached the railing. 

“Your home is so beautiful,” she breathed. 

“It’s yours now, too.”

“I suppose you’re right.” That still didn’t sit well with her, she wasn’t sure that all of this would ever feel like hers but it was. Swallowing thickly, she turned, smiling awkwardly. “I don’t really know how to talk to you.” 

Ducking his chin, Draco nodded. “I feel much the same. You and I have a lot more baggage between us. Suffice it to say my father’s baggage may be more... _ extreme _ , but it is not as extensive. Which is why I have these.” 

Reaching into his robes he pulled free two vials and offered her one. She scoffed as she noted the color and slight silver sheen to it. “Veritaserum?”

“I thought we might cut through some of the bullshite tonight, if that’s alright. I’m your husband; whatever you want to know I’ll tell you.” 

Her brow inched towards her forehead as she rolled the vial between her fingertips. “Then why on earth do we need truth potion?”

“You’ll have no room to doubt my answers. Tonight, you can ask me whatever you want and it’s yours. If you don’t want to take yours, that’s fine. I just want you to have whatever answers about me that you need so we can move forward in our marriage.” 

_ Marriage _ . A dozen questions burst to life, flittering across her consciousness and before she really thought on it, a decision had been made. She unstoppered the vial and let it slip down her throat, only wincing a bit at the unpleasant taste. 

Draco smirked, following her lead and then gesturing for a small outdoor sitting area with a bottle of champagne on ice and two flutes waiting for them. 

Almost immediately she could feel the effects of the potion as they churned in her stomach and her sex ached inexplicably ached for him. She tried to ignore the way his long fingers loosened the cork of the bottle or the way his jaw cut into hard delicious lines. 

As he handed her a glass, the first question tumbled past her lips. “Why am I suddenly so attracted to you?”

His lip twitched as he took a long drink, then he turned to her, hitching an ankle over his knee. “The marriage bond; it’s old family magic. And old magic like that wants to live on, wants heirs and a strong lineage. Although, I’m not sure that’s anything to do with attraction; that might just come around naturally.” 

She snorted. “So you’re saying I want to breed?”

“No,” he said carefully, his eyes darkening as his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. “I’m saying you want to fuck your husband. Lucky me.” A breath hitched painfully in her throat as his crass language made liquid heat pool at the apex of her thighs. “My turn, why did you marry us? Why on earth would you accept?”

“That’s two questions,” she said, fighting a grin as she drank deepily from her flute. “I married you because I was required to marry someone and your offer for marriage was the best for me. It made the most sense given my financial situation and prospects.” The truth was a bit harsh and she expected him to flinch away from it but he didn’t. “I accepted because I’ve wanted to know what it was like to be yours since before I knew what it was to want someone.” 

His eyes tightened and he shifted in his seat, pulling the fabric of his trousers away from his crotch. 

“Why did you want me to marry you? You could have had anyone—certainly not someone you had to share with your father. Why me?” Her voice trembled as she watched him in rapture, the way he loosened his tie and slipped the top button free with sure, deft fingers. 

“You’re beautiful, clever, ambitious, and kind. I think you’d be a good mother and an exceptional wife.” The list of qualities read much like a resume and they weren’t quite as passionate as what she’d expect—which she supposed was okay—but then he continued, “I’ve had an uncomfortable attraction to you since the Yule Ball our fourth year and while you're personality often left much to be desired, I wanted you. I  _ do _ want you.” 

Hermione gulped. “Even though you have to share me with your father?”

Something flickered across his features and he placed his drink on the table between them then leaned forward over his knees. “More so because I  _ get _ to share you with my father. That old magic revels in our union, it’s greedy and lustful, it wants more, all the time. It’s consuming and makes each of us stronger. You’ll see after we consummate. United we are more than you could imagine.” 

Hermione had never really been one to seek power but hearing him caress the notion aloud to her tonight set her skin on fire. 

Leaning back, Draco ticked his chin in her direction. “Come here to me.” 

Her heart thundered in her ribs and swiftly downing the rest of champagne, she stood on trembling legs and did as she bid. She stopped when she standing between his knees, unsure what he wanted next until his hands rested on her hips, tugging her down into his lap. Her legs were draping over his, his hand resting behind her knee. 

“Is this okay?” he asked while his gaze dripped over her heaving chest. 

“Yes.” 

His lips brushed her neck, tasting her skin in a wet kiss as his hand crept higher. “Is this?”

A low moan was dragged from deep inside her and she could  _ feel _ it, that unmistakable pull. Her back arched as she clung to him. “Yes.” 

A groan rumbled against her neck as his fingers brushed where knickers ought be and he pulled back. His eyes were liquid silver, hot and intent on her. “Tell me what you want from me,” he pleaded. “Anything and it’s yours.” 

Rocking her hips, she felt his hard thickness against her hip and the truth burst into existence before she could think better of it. “I want you to fuck me.” His mouth twitched, fingers digging into the thick flesh of her backside. “Which I also think is ridiculous because you are you and I’m me but—” Her breath caught as his teeth grazed her throat.

“Where are your knickers?” Sliding his hand over her bare flesh, she parted her thighs to allow him entrance. Her mouth fell open in a silent cry as he pushed a finger inside her and it was nowhere near enough. She’d been at the bloody brink since before dinner and she needed more. 

“Your father took them,” she choked out as he grinned against her neck and pushed another finger inside her, fucking her in long, lazy strokes. His mouth never stopped roaming, wet kisses trailing from her jaw to her exposed chest, sucking and marking her while she writhed on his fingers. 

He pulled back, smirking. “Tell me what you want and it’s yours.” 

The truth tumbled into existence against her volition. “Fuck me and call me Mudblood.” 

Her eyes rounded and a hand flew up to splay over her lips as his smirk grew to a grin. “Now that I can do. Go grab that fucking railing and don’t turn around.” 

Something churned between her legs, her thighs wet from her want as she slipped from his lap. Her ankles shook as she crossed the space, slender fingers curling around the wrought iron as she waited. The warm June air gusted around her, tickling the hem of her dress against her legs. 

“You’re to say yellow when you’re nearing your limit, red when you’re there. Do you understand?” She must be sick in the head, must have something seriously fucking wrong with her if this is what she wanted—but  _ fuck _ she did. His fingers wound in the curls at the back of her head and yanked her head back at a near unnatural angle. The toe of his shoe kicked at her ankles until she widened her stance. “Did you hear me, Mudblood?” 

A thrill ran through her and she swallowed the dryness in her mouth, pressing her thighs together. “Yes.” 

“Yes, _ sir,” _ he corrected and she fought the urge to roll her eyes. “It could be master if you prefer.” His free hand flipped the bottom of her skirt up and she felt the air rush against her pussy.. 

He let go of her hair and her head fell forward only to rock back again when his palm came down hard on her arse. “Can you take it?” he ground out. 

“Yes sir,” she groaned, rolling her back and squirming from the heat of the slap. 

He stepped to the side, his hand resting on the arse cheek he’d not just assaulted. Without warning it slammed into her arse; she could feel the way the flesh of her bum shook from the force and she cried out. 

“Again?” he asked, his voice skeptical. 

“Bloody get on it with, Malfoy.” She sneered over her shoulder at him and it lit something in his features and a sinful grin worked it’s way over his lips. 

“Your wish, my command.” In impossibly quick succession his hand came down in painful slaps, alternating sides. It stole all her thoughts, all she could focus on was the endless sting until his fingers slid between her thighs and rocked inside her once before spanking her left. Then between her thighs again before spanking her right. 

“You’re fucking soaked, Granger. Were you this horny back in school? I could have helped.” The amusement in his voice did wicked things to her and she began rocking her hips to meet him, pleasured noises piercing through the night air. “That’s right; no one will hear you out here. Get louder.” 

She obliged as he punished her arse cheeks, pausing only to shove his fingers deeper in her cunt. “What color are you?” 

Pausing, she caught her breath and managed to look over her shoulder with a slow grin. “Green.”

His lips pulled into a smile and he stepped back, admiring her undoubtedly crimson arse with pride. “Pretty girl. You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to swat that tight little arse. Rounding her backside, his hands fell to her hips and he bent, kissing each of her battered arse cheeks once before positioning himself behind her. 

She nearly came at the sound of him yanking his belt free; the noise of his zipper made her sex clench. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk, Granger.” With a snap of his hips he slid into her drenched core, hilting himself as he tossed his head back and groaned once. “Then, I’m going to take you to my bed and fuck you again…” he pulled out and slammed back into her, “and again.” 

Crying out, she curled her fingers around the bannister as he fucked her mercilessly, the slap of their skin mingling with her broken breaths and wails. His fingers wound in her hair again and he wrenched her back, pushing her forward until she was more standing than bent. His lips found her ear as he curled his hand tighter. 

“Did you think I forgot, Mudblood?”  _ Merlin. _ She moaned, the walls of her sex clenching as he drove into her. “Filthy fucking Mudblood, you don’t deserve this cock do you? Lucky little witch.” 

His tongue dragged up the column of her throat just as his free hand snaked up to curl around it and squeeze gently. She came almost violently, knees buckling as unadulterated pleasure coursed through her veins. “But you’re still my Mudblood, Granger. Always mine. Say it.” 

“I’m yours,” she managed, rocking back against his cock. 

He pulled away slightly until they were nose to nose and she could see his blown pupils and stormy grey eyes in great detail. “My what?”

“Your mudblood.” 

The space between his eyes wrinkled. “What else?” 

His gaze landed on her lips and she realized they’d not yet kissed; it pained her. Realization slammed into her. “I’m your wife.” 

He sagged in relief, his hand falling away as he withdrew from her and turned her, backing her against a pillar. Hitching her knee over his hip, he drove into her again, this time more slowly, rocking in deep, measured thrusts as he buried his face in the crook of her neck with nonsensical repetitions of  _ mine-mine-mine. _

Threading her fingers in his sugar fine hair, she pulled his face to hers. They both paused on a breath, studying the other before they crashed into each other, teeth and tongue until they were breathless. 

One of his hands slipped from where he was supporting her bum and tugged the tie free on her dress, exposing her fully to his view. His eyes nearly rolled back and his fingers found her clit, rubbing her with slow purposeful strokes until she was coming around him again, digging her nails into his neck as her lips fell into a silent cry. 

“Thank fuck,” he mumbled and drove into her with hard thrusts until he was filling her, his shoulders tensing as his mouth froze over hers. 

As he pulled away, she found herself delirious as he pressed languid kisses over every inch of her he could reach. Slipping from inside her, he Apparated them without warning and she was tumbling into his mattress moments later as he yanked at the fabric on her dress, tossing it over his shoulder. His clothing soon followed until they were naked and pressed together, his lips soothing the sting of his words and slaps from earlier. 

She grinned as she felt him impossibly still hard against her thigh. Kicking her knee over, she rolled him on his back and settled over his cock, sliding onto him as he grew harder by the instant. Tugging at her breasts, he moaned loudly, begging for more. She rolled her hips in response and his fingers dug into her skin so hard she was sure she’d find fingertip shaped bruises there tomorrow. 

“You’re so fucking perfect, Granger. So bloody beautiful and I’ll never have my fill of you. Not ever.” 

“Haven’t you heard?” She smirked, tongue darting out to wet her lips as she bucked on his cock. “It’s Malfoy now.” 

**xXx**

**A/N: Well that’s that folks! Please forgive any errors, this is unread at the time of posting!**

**I have a light plot in mind here but I’m really just hoping to have fun with it! If you have some kinks/scenes you want to see, let me know in the reviews/tumblr asks and I’ll do my best!**

**Thanks for reading!**


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